Golden Illusion, Just For You
by Demonic Angel Queens
Summary: Black, white, a splash of color, secrets, lies, and hidden truth. A boy gone missing, a runaway girl and the fools who run the chessboard. Watch as everything is broken, unfolded, and laid before your very eyes.
1. Chapter 0

_**Golden Illusion, Just For You**_

_Chapter Zero: Prologue_

_Emerald Eyes were dull beneath shattered oval glasses, bright as the pale skin was slightly gray. Black hair was twisted and knotted around the prone form. Red was everywhere within the room. It splattered the walls and snaked across the body staining the floor burgundy. The shadows seemed to shy away, even as the tones of sunset disappeared. __There was no sound from within the home. It looked so incredibly ordinary, almost identical to every other house on the street. When in the house, you may never find the room, if not for a skilled eye. The people who had lived there were now long gone. The people realizing what they had done had fled. If the body was ever found they would not live past the month, if they were lucky. Unknown to all the body would never be found._


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter One: They that sow in tears shall reap in joy

'_I felt like I had been floating in this endless abyss of darkness for an eternity. It was peaceful and the dark was like a comforting blanket. A blanket that kept me covered from the entirety of the world. The world is coming closer to me again though. It's in a form of light that is slowly eating away at my precious blanket. I don't want the light to touch me, to take away my only comfort. Right before it touches me I wonder, is someone capable of staying in this abyss for an eternity? Then the light touched me and everything burned.'_

Green eyes opened to dim lights and pain. '_I guess that was the burning sensation,' _he thought. He tried to stretch out his muscles but it was hard to move them. Frowning, he looked at one of his arms. Hair was wrapped around it; following the strands he noticed it was covering his entire body. _'Since when has my hair been this long?' _he wondered. His gaze then wondered to the red that seemed to colour everything. Achingly slow he moved a hand out to a red patch on his thigh and felt a liquid of some sort. His eyes went wide when the realization struck. _'Bloody hell, this is blood!' _he screamed in his mind. When looking around as best as he could he found his blood on everything in the room. _'Too lose that much blood. How am still alive?' _he asked himself.

'_My magic,' he thought, 'Can I use it to heal myself?'_ Closing his eyes he decided to concentrate on his magic. It took time as he entered his mind to search through everything before finding his magical core. Slowly he released a breath of relief; his core was full and functioning. _'Heal my body.'_he repeated like a mantra. Slowly the magic tingled along his body. It swirled, jumped, and twitched along the wounds that hid among the blood. The marks slowly turned into scars as the muscle and tissue repaired, the bones cracked into place and mended together again. His arteries and blood vessels reattached to their responding organs which started up once again. By the time the first bone had mended he had lost conscious from the pain.


	3. Chapter 2

**Dea: **Hi. Thank you for reading up until here at all! Uuummmmmm...I realized that I had never put a disclaimer up so I should probably do that.

Disclaimer: All rights, privleges and everything else belong to J.K Rowling the real author of my stolen characters! Like geez if I had the rights Sirius would never have died! *crying*

Enough of that read on! ...and just maybe tell me what you think? Just maybe?

* * *

Chapter Two: Truth is stranger than fiction

The first thing he became aware of was the dull ache that seemed to come from everywhere on his body. The magic was dim in his mind, waiting for its next command.

He sighed and opened his eyes while hesitantly moving his body to a sitting position.

After a few minutes of scrutinizing the remainders of his recently indisposed state he decided to hunt for his belongings.

He was not in his room that was for sure.

Slowly stretching he got up to find a way out of the room.

He closed his eyes and frowned as he tried to remember how he got there in the first place.

Nothing came to mind.

'Well this is one heck of a predicament I've gotten into,' he thought.

Moving over to the walls he moved his hands along each one, stopping when coming to a cold spot. Leaning against the wall he slowly added weight until the piece moved and he fell to the ground.

At least know he knew his location, a house.

"I wonder how this room ended up here," thought Harry absently.

It seemed he was in the attic, if the dark shapes stacked around him were any indication.

'It's lucky that I counted the steps across the room last time. Even if it was to avoid Vernon after work.' mused Harry.

Counting his steps to what he remembered Harry kneeled and felt around on the floor.

"Gotcha," he whispered. His fingers had caught in a notch in the wood, he lifted.

The stairs hit the floor with an echoing crack and panic surged through Harry.

He listened for any sign of movement before slowly going down to the next floor.

Since it wasn't to light out yet he didn't have to worry about being careful not to be seen.

Harry quickly strode across the hall to his old room, frowning when he noticed it was completely empty.

'Hopefully they didn't search the room closely,' said a little voice in his head.

'I didn't hear anything. It was just the wind from outside making noise.' Harry thought.

'Sure it was Harry you just keep on deluding yourself,' mocked the voice.

I am not deluding myself,' snapped Harry, 'Crap; I'm starting to talk to myself!'

'Well you know what they say the first sign of insanity is when you start talking to yourself. The Daily Prophet always has a hint of truth in it somewhere so congrats to Rita,' said the voice.

"Ah! I don't hear you!" exclaimed Harry.

He quickly crossed the room to where the bed had been where there was a small tear in the wall.

He reached his hand in and grabbed the clothes that were in there.

The loose floorboard was pulled up to reveal his wand, cloak, map and holiday cards.

The wardrobe hadn't been taken; the reason was the cracked top which made it less than perfect.

Luckily for him his first aid kit was still concealed on the top.

"Now where is the rest of my stuff?" Harry asked aloud.

He decided to go downstairs and check everything out.

The cupboard under the stairs held his broom, school supplies, trunk and Hedwig's empty cage.

The pantry had some cans of food and preservatives, the fridge some stale water bottles and the cupboards some dishes and utensils.

Harry quickly gathered everything up and brought it into the attic.

Going back down the stairs he decided to check out the other bedrooms for anything useful.

Dudley's room held some school supplies in an old backpack that was hidden in the closet.

His Aunt and Uncle had money in a coat of his Uncle's that was in a garbage bag of old clothes.

Other than a pillow covered in stains, the room was completely cleaned out.

From the corner of his eye Harry saw the shed through the window.

'They could have left something in there,' thought Harry.

He had to be careful going outside since his search had taken up time.

'Twenty minutes until the people could notice me.' Harry ran in the shadows across the yard and into the shed.

Breathing heavy, he looked glanced at the shelves lining the walls.

Eyes closed, Harry prayed for the search to be easy. 'Better get started then,' Harry thought with a sigh.

The shelves had broken flower pots, old gardening tools, and fertilizer.

'Well so much for something useful.' he thought.

Turning around to go into the house Harry sighed tiredly, never noticing the girl watching him.

'It's already been twenty minutes too…'he thought absently.

'Wait! What?' Harry's eyes widened. 'NO!' he screamed in his mind.

He ran into the house, slamming the door in his haste before realising what he had done.

Slowly peeking through the blinds he realised nobody had noticed and muttered to himself, "Probably thought it was a car door or something."

'It's seven my as well get some sleep,' Harry thought while heading upstairs, into as he dubbed it his attic room.

Even as he laid down on an old recliner knew he couldn't sleep.

Too many thoughts ran through his head even as his eyes closed.

What was happening at the burrow? He could see Molly cooking as the Weasley children all came down.

How were his friends? Hermione and Ron would know something was wrong, right?

Did the order know what was going on? With the fine protection they gave, at least Tonks deserved some doubt. The rest not so much, they weren't emotionally unstable like her.

Did they know he had been missing for a week? I need to get some new protection.

What about the Dursleys' whereabouts? Even if they're found Vernon wouldn't tell about my whereabouts, if only to save his own skin.

Wonder what that unfortunate person would do to him? Better not to know, I'm not that sadistic.

What would Dumbledore do? Search for me, old coot may have already started which screws me over.

Voldemort. No brainer there. So I better lay low to by pass the coot then head somewhere new to avoid him. Just for now it can't hurt much.

What was he supposed to do now? Try and sleep for now. Maybe use that slytherin part of you, if only to survive this mess.

And more importantly how was he going to know who in the seventh levels of hell was trustable!

Dumbledore isn't trustable and he's the icon for the light, he leads them like sheep. Not much better than Voldemort's lackeys in that sense even if for different reasons.

In the end it comes down to control, who controls who, who has the most respect, resources, and people.

It's like a chess game but more complex, because lives are at stake. Who lives, who dies, who does this and who does that even if it looks sacrificial. Voldemort controls one side, the dark, while Dumbledore controls the other, the light. So why are both of them so stuck on control of me? On the control of Harry Potter, who is a mere child in comparison to either lords?

In the end the answer to that question would probably answer everything he needed to know. The question to answer all questions, at least for him.

In the end he would know the truth even if it kills him, since he was already a dead man walking a thin line.

What then would happen when that line broke, letting him fall any way? He didn't know.

With that last thought he drifted to sleep, a small frown on his troubled face.

* * *

The old coot is Dumbledore. No offense to pro-dumbledore people but I don't really like him. His decisions when it came to Tom Riddle and Harry were far from the best. So I guess that makes me an anti-dumbledore person.


End file.
